Michael Spradlin: Keeper of the Grail

Sir Thomas laughed easily. “I believe you heard me, lad. I saw no evidence of deafness in you this afternoon. So what will it be?” His eyes sparkled as he watched me struggle with the enormity of his offer.

Looking down the table, I saw Sir Hugh studying us, his face pinched in concentration as if he were trying to learn what it was Sir Thomas had said to me.

“Sire, I thank you,” I finally replied, “but I cannot leave St. Alban’s.”

“Why not? I have spoken to the abbot and he approves if you agree. I have learned much about you, young man. Since you won’t be joining the order, you’ll have to leave this place soon anyway. What better way than as a squire to a Templar Knight? You will travel, see the world and serve a noble cause. Not many are given this opportunity.” Sir Thomas dutifully ate from his plate of stew and bread, not looking at me while he spoke.

“I’m sorry, sire, but I have duties. There is much work to do in the garden and…”

Sir Thomas interrupted. “And the timing is perfect, as I am in need of a squire. Mine has recently left the Order, returning to his family home to assist his ill father. You would do me a great service by accepting.”

I was speechless. How could I make such a decision? Give up the only life I’d ever known?

“It won’t be easy,” he continued. “The work is hard and dangerous. We are on our way to war. Make no mistake about that, lad. But you’ll be well trained. I will teach you all I know about the art of battle. It will be a grand adventure.”

The brothers often told me that God works in mysterious ways. That his divine presence surrounds us always and that he grants us what we need when we need it most. Did he send Sir Thomas to the abbey at the time that I most needed this opportunity?

Sir Thomas’ eyes twinkled and his smile was genuine. In that moment, I felt that I had made a friend for life. Glancing down the table and seeing Sir Hugh frowning back at me, though, I became aware that I had also made an enemy.

Ibegan my evening chores with cleanup duty in the kitchen. I wished to finish my duties quickly, as I had promised to groom Sir Thomas’ horse and did not wish to disappoint him. Brother Rupert was the monk who did most of the kitchen work at St. Alban’s. He was from France and an excellent cook. He was also the person I felt closest to after Brother Tuck.

We stood at a wooden table in the kitchen, clearing the leftover food from the evening meal into a slop bucket from which it would be fed to the pigs and goats. Nothing went to waste at the abbey.

“I hear you have news, Tristan,” he said. I was not surprised by this. Gossip traveled quickly among the monks.

“I do,” I said, proceeding to tell him of Sir Thomas’ offer. “What should I do, Brother Rupert?”

“First, I would instruct you to pray. Ask God for guidance. But in the end you can do only what is in your heart.”

I was very fond of Brother Rupert, but most of the time his answer to all of life’s questions was more prayer. I wasn’t sure praying was going to make my decision any easier. I had no idea what my heart was telling me.

Once finished in the kitchen, I headed outside to the stables. Though most of the spring rains were over, it could still grow chilly in the evenings. I wondered what the weather might be like in Outremer.

Sir Thomas’ offer had unsettled me. My first reaction had been that I could not leave the abbey. What would the brothers do without me? I was almost fifteen years old. In truth I should have left the abbey last year. It was only the kind hearts of the brothers that had kept me there. If I left the abbey with Sir Thomas, I would be on my own for the first time. I was not afraid of the work, but the uncertainty gave me pause. What if I discovered I didn’t like being a squire? Then what? Return to the abbey as a failure?

Unless I took vows, I couldn’t stay here forever. And I had no desire to become a monk. I wanted something more. Thoughts of adventure and excitement began to creep into my mind.

Then there was the danger. Sir Thomas had spoken of it. A Templar Knight fought, and there was no question the work would be hazardous. Would I be up to the task? All of these thoughts were jumbled up in my mind.

In the dark stables, the small oil lamp I carried gave off just enough light for me to see. I sat it on a barrel near the stall beside Sir Thomas’ horse. Taking a soft rag, I began rubbing down the horse’s flanks. He tossed his head from side to side as if he appreciated my efforts. After working over each side, I refilled his hay.

Sir Hugh’s stallion was finally calm and content. I tried rubbing him down as well, but he did not enjoy the attention. Perhaps he was not yet fully broken to the saddle.

I checked the bandage on his leg and found it secure. Then a feeling came over me that I was being watched. Suddenly the oil lamp went out and the stable was plunged into complete darkness.

At first I thought a gust of wind had blown out the flame, but the stable was eerily quiet, and I definitely felt the presence of someone else.

“Hello,” I said to the darkness. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

Without the light of the lamp it was impossible to see anything. I thought I heard the squeak of a leather boot and the slightest clink of metal.

“Sir Thomas? Is that you?”

Still no answer. The skin along my neck and shoulders began to tingle. Something was wrong.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the stables, I thought I saw the outline of a figure in the stable doorway.

Though I knew the layout of the stable by heart, I stepped cautiously across the dirt floor toward the door. Feeling about in the darkness, I picked up the oil lamp, intending to return to the abbey to relight it from the fireplace in the kitchen. Just as I was about to exit, I felt a sharp blow to the back of my shoulders that drove me to my knees. I cried out in agony, falling facedown into the dirt.

I tried to regain my hands and knees, but as I did, I felt a boot connect with my ribs. I let out a loud yell then, hollering for the brothers. But the stable rested a long way from the abbey, and it was unlikely I would be heard.

The next blow knocked me sideways into the wall, driving the air from my lungs. I groaned, trying to cry out, but couldn’t gather my breath.

Still unable to see anything but shadows, and sensing another blow coming, I pulled myself up, using the wall for support. Knowing that my adversary couldn’t see well either, my familiarity with the stables was my only advantage. I thought of trying to run out the door, but felt that he stood between me and escape. So instead, I dropped back to my hands and knees and scrambled across the floor into the stall that held Sir Hugh’s stallion.

He didn’t like me sharing his space and began prancing and making noise. I had hoped this would happen. If I could excite the horses enough, the noise they made would give me enough cover to escape from the stable in the darkness. I rose up next to the horse and made a whinnying sound. It drove him crazy, as he believed another stallion had entered his territory. He began to whinny and snort, kicking at the sides of the stall.

There was movement in the stable, but with the noise I could not tell which direction my attacker was heading. The other horses were excited by the stallion, and they also began to clatter and snort.

I was certain the attacker thought I would climb over the fence separating each stall to make my way toward the front door. I did climb from the stall, but instead of moving to the front door, I moved across each fence toward the rear of the stable, trying to move quietly while the noise from the horses helped hide my movements.